


Ex lover's lover

by Gwyllt



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Slash, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwyllt/pseuds/Gwyllt
Summary: Penguin highly appreciates friendship and knows that it is verified by deeds, not words.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Ex lover's lover

Penguin hated when things went south—and Ed’s disappearance certainly wasn’t on his list.

  
“So, no one saw anything, heard anything, knew anything, and even couldn't suggest anything?” It took one calculated jab of Oswald’s walking cane for Butch to have collapsed into the chair; Oswald leaned over him, the end of his cane pointing at Butch’s chest. “He what, just gone, and no one noticed anything?!”

“Yes, boss,” Butch mumbled. Oswald’s light-grayed eyes roved over his face, and then he pressed his cane harder though Butch couldn’t feel a thing. “Should I start searching?”

“Should… Should you start searching?” Oswald, frenzied, blurted out. His thin lips stretched in a crooked, unnatural smile. “Well, I don’t really know what to say… Oh no, I do—the search should have been started the moment when Ed disappeared! At that exact moment, Butch!”

“But, boss, I didn’t know…”

“You should have!”—Oswald snapped, thundering again upon the floor with his metal-headed cane.—“You should have known, understand?! I’m paying you to provide security! Do you even know what ‘security’ means?”

“But boss,”—Butch frowned—“I thought it's about _your_ security…”

The nostrils of Oswald’s pointed nose flared.

“My”—his calm voice, a stark contrast to the screams echoing between the walls, sounded creepier than before—"security of this place and everyone inside it!”

At the end of an utterance, his voice soared up again, and Oswald poked Butch in a solar plexus by his cane, stressing his own words.

“Got it, boss. I'll immediately give all the necessary instructions...”

Oswald held up his fisted hand, clenching his fingers. Butch knew what it meant—“Shut it and be quiet”. He did so, and a moment later he realized the true meaning behind this gesture: Oswald pulled a phone out of his pocket.

“Yes?” Penguin exhaled calmly into the speaker, trying to even his breath and smooth his voice. Journalists, potential investors, business partners, or whomever else didn’t have to know about the problems Oswald was dealing with. Reputation was above all.

“Oswald,” Nygma’s flat voice was interrupted by the speaker's static. His feet refusing to obey him, Oswald clenched his fingers hard upon the handle of his cane.

“Ed? Where are you?” Oswald turned his back to Butch, not wanting him to see his face. “I thought you are in trouble…”

“I’m… fine,”—if Oswald didn’t know Edward well, he wouldn’t have noticed a short pause—“but I’m afraid I need your help. Sorry for bothering you, I know, you have a lot of work, and…”

“Not at all,”—Oswald licked his lips—“it’s no bother. You are already helping me out so much, and I’m glad to repay you for that. How can I help?”

“Come to Gotham’s docks”—Nygma clipped out—“alone. Preferably with the truck. Bring a trash bag… Better two. And I could use a pair of gloves… No, a hazmat suit is better.”

Nygma couldn’t have chosen more suitable words: there was a corpse. Oswald’s fingers went cold a little, and he pressed them on the polished wood. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, he had to help.

Because this was the only way a real friendship could be put to a test.

“Got it,” Oswald said. “I’m on my way.”

A chilly wind blew from the riverside—it seemed like the weather was going to change by morning. Oswald tied his scarf tighter to his neck and limped ahead, trying to discern Nygma’s shape in the dark. He didn’t dare to raise his voice to call. No one ever knew whom they could stumble across at the docs. This was Gotham after all.

“Oswald,” Nygma called him out when Penguin was stumping across a row of metal containers that were supposed to go for loading the next morning. “I’m here.”

For an instant, Oswald froze, recognition coming slowly. “What happened?”

He stopped. The severe wind blew from the right side, crawling under the sleeves of his coat, and Oswald felt a spontaneous urge to get as far away as possible from here. If it wasn’t for Ed, he wouldn’t have ever set a foot on this pier.

“Did you bring what I asked?” Nygma’s dark eyes looked him up and down as if he expected Oswald to bring a suitcase.

“Yes, it’s all in the car,” Penguin gestured at the vehicle. “Could you tell me what’s going on?”

“Maybe,” Nygma went past him and headed to the car. Penguin could only follow him, ambling and jumping at each step. He hated a brisk walk: his legs never kept up with the cane.

“Well?” Penguin asked, trying to make his voice sound flat.

Nygma staggered to a halt, and Oswald almost bumped into him.

“It’s Isabella,” Nygma said flatly, flexing his fingers. He didn’t look at Penguin, preferring to glance over the pier’s concrete blocks—and that’s why he hadn’t noticed a trace of disgusting malice on his face. “I found out that one of her exes… Stalked her”.

“Stalked?” Penguin echoed.

“He was calling her, texting her…” Nygma murmured and shifted his eyes on Penguin. “I know it’s none of my business since Isabella and I broke up, but I can’t risk her life. I used to work in GCPD, I know the percentage of similar crimes is up—”

“Ed”—Penguin didn’t care about statistics—“are you trying to tell me that somewhere among these containers lies a dead body of your exes’ ex?”

“Yes,” Nygma gave a straight answer, not avoiding the question, not covering up the uncomfortable truth with pretty lies. “And since I can’t use my job as a cover, I need help with... Body disposal. I was hoping you’d give me a hand with that.”

A new gust of wind hit Penguin in his back, forcing him to take a clumsy step forward, almost bumping into Ed. Nygma’s reaction was lightning-quick: he grabbed Oswald by the shoulders to keep him from losing his balance and fall.

“I will accept your refusal,” he said in a toneless voice, his eyes fixed on Oswald. “I’m already asking too much, you don’t have to help me. Just leave me the car and go, I’ll handle it.”

Penguin swallowed, feeling Ed’s touch even through a thick coat’s fabric. He raised his hand and squeezed Nygma’s wrist, locking his eyes on him.

“Of course,” his voice suddenly broke off, and he had to clear his throat. “Of course, I will help you. We are friends, aren’t we?”


End file.
